Play of lights

Lights have always held a strange hypnotic allure. Photographing lights in a dark backdrop, still holds a charm of it's own. So it was one such evening in a breezy, balmy shore city, that answering that sudden urge, leaving behind some friends, I walked out to capture the play of lights in the french quarters. The length and breadth of the old town is littered with frames. The open restaurants, the slow music drifting out. Sometimes, I would stop, stand at the doors, and take a picture just to freeze the essence in that moment. In places such as these, you sometime want to show the canvas to someone. Tell them how childishly church arches fascinate you. The gilded doors, the high ceilings, the perfectly lined pews. And above all the multi colored glasses on the windows. The fading glow of lights playing hide and seek through them. Then suddenly the cell phone vibrates. Picking it out of a cluttered pocket, I open the window to read his words. So how do the churches look tonight? And there you stand rooted to the spot, wondering at the absurdity of it all. Absurdity that he would somehow know that I would invariably find my way into an isolated church by the sea, miles away from him. I pause, look around, inhale and respond, they look just fine. And then I showed him.